


Sherlock's Kinks

by dany



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Begging, Dom/sub, First Time, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dany/pseuds/dany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If Sherlock was expecting John to give up and consider him too damaged or possibly too perverted, Sherlock did not know John. John Watson was not a man to shy away from a lover’s needs." </p>
<p>Unbetaed, please forgive any mistakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock's Kinks

John had attempted subtle flirtation at dinner and then again back at the flat. Sherlock had, unsurprisingly, seemed impervious. 

It had been several months since the ‘not my area’ speech, and true to his word, Sherlock had not had a single date or romantic interest. However, John could read his best friend well enough to believe that if Sherlock was sexual, his interest laid with men. His own interests had traditionally been more with women than men, but he had never ruled out the possibility of being with a man. Sherlock chased away all his girlfriends and John found himself caring less and less, until he eventually had stopped asking women out. No one could compare to Sherlock. 

Back at the flat, John had made them both tea and sat beside Sherlock on the sofa. Sitting on the sofa with Sherlock instead of in his chair was one of his strategies for conveying interest. However, he had been sitting slightly closer every day without any acknowledgement. 

Steaming mug in hand, John let his head drop to the back of the sofa and he allowed himself to indulge in self-pity. 

Five minutes passed in silence before Sherlock spoke. His voice lacked the usual self confidence. 

‘John, I know you’ve been pursuing me, and you know that I’m flattered…’

‘It’s fine, I know, I’m sorry, I won’t…’

Sherlock continued over John’s protests. ‘It’s not that I’m not interested. I find you very… tempting. It’s just, there are things that I want. I don’t want…’ His hands gesturing in the air, his eyes looking anywhere but John’s. ‘I don’t want what you and your women do. That’s not what I think about when I think about men. I can see you’ve worked out that I’m gay, which I supposed a mildly observant man might notice easily. When I think about you. I want… things that you and your romantic notions would find distasteful.’ He spit the last word out and his lips curled up, his voice changing from vulnerable to a sneer. ‘You don’t want what I want. Best to give up now.’ 

If Sherlock was expecting John to give up and consider him too damaged or possibly too perverted, Sherlock did not know John. John Watson was not a man to shy away from a lover’s needs. 

‘Try to explain. It doesn’t have to be exactly right.’ 

There was a long pause as Sherlock’s gaze finally settled on John’s face. John did not look away. 

‘It’s not one thing. There are a lot of things I want, none of them tasteful.’

John waited, his face passive and open. 

‘I’ve never… I’ve never asked for…’ He paused and swallowed. ‘I’ve been with men, but it was never what I wanted. Sometimes I couldn’t even get an erection. I decided it wasn’t worth the trouble.’ 

‘I’m worth the trouble. Ask me.’

Sherlock vaulted off the couch and into the kitchen. He paced frantically back and forth. 

‘Cigarettes, John. Where are they?’

‘I threw them out, you know that.’ 

Sherlock stopped his pacing and stood silently for a moment. 

‘Can you play along? Follow my lead until you are uncomfortable? And when you become uncomfortable, will you say so?’ He asked.

‘Yes.’ John’s response was instant. 

‘Sit in your chair.’

John stood from the couch and settled into his chair, leaning back against his pillow, with his arms casually on the sides. He took a deep breath and willed himself to portray utter calm. No matter what was about to happen, he wanted Sherlock to see him calm and open minded. 

Thirty seconds went by while Sherlock continued to stand by the door, and then he was moving towards John, dropping to his knees in front of him, eyes cast down. His voice was soft and small.

‘John, I know you’re not interested in me. I know you don’t want me, but there’s something that I want so badly, if you could just have pity on me, just this once, I promise I won’t ask again.’ Sherlock’s left hand was on John’s knee, sliding slowly up his jean covered thighs. ‘John, I…’ His voice broke. ‘John I need, please.’ His fingers dug into the top of his thigh. ‘John if you could just let me suck your cock, please. Please, just this once, I could make it so good for you.’ His eyes lifted lowly to meet John’s. ‘I know that you don’t want me. But I’ve been practicing. While thinking about you.’ 

John’s trousers were suddenly very, very tight. He licked his lips. 

‘I have a toy I bought, a nice big cock, and every night I wrap my lips around it and pretend it’s you. I go until my lips are numb and my jaw is sore, and my cock is so hard it hurts.   
But sometimes I pretend you tell me I can’t come and I lay with my arse in the air wanting so badly to thrust down into the sheets, but it feels so good knowing you wanted it to hurt.’ 

Sherlock’s eyes had moved off John’s face to his very prominent erection straining his jeans. ‘Oh John, please. You’re already hard, just let me have a taste. Just a taste, please.’ John’s grip on the arms of his chair was so tight he realized a few of his fingers had gone numb. Jesus, Sherlock thought he’d find this repulsive? His head swimming in lust and shock, he realized had been sitting completely frozen and some participation might be required of him. He forced himself to sound authoritative and uninterested.

‘Take it out then. But keep your filthy mouth off it until I tell you otherwise.’ Sherlock’s eyes shot up to his and John saw his pupils dilate across his light eyes. His jaw dropped lower and his breath was shallow. John struggled to maintain a disinterested face, when all he wanted was to shove Sherlock onto the floor and kiss that mouth for hours. 

Sherlock’s hands undid his belt, and then his button and zipper. He gently pulled John’s cock through the fly in his pants and ran the pads of his fingers over the glans and down the shaft. He looked enraptured. Without looking up he whispered, ‘oh please, John. I’ll make it so good for you.’

‘You can have a taste, but that’s all. Just the tip then. And keep your hands off.’ You’re doing great, Watson, keep it together. John wanted to bury his fingers in those curls.   
Sherlock’s hands came down to rest on the tops of John’s thighs and he leaned forward until the erection was millimeters from his lips. He parted his lips slightly and came down on the side of the head with the most obscene open mouthed kiss John had ever seen. The groan Sherlock made was deep and soft, and he began to slowly tease the head with his tongue as he worked his lips open. Sherlock’s angle of facing more towards him than directly down on his cock couldn’t have been unintentional. Sherlock was giving him a show of his face. 

Fucking Christ. John congratulated himself on not gasping those words aloud. Instead he concentrated on breathing as deeply as possible. 

Sherlock adjusted his stance, sitting taller on his knees and angling his face down and gave several slow swirls of his tongue around the rim of the head. Then he lay his tongue on the underside and slide his mouth halfway down before John’s hand shot out and grabbed his hair, pulling him off his cock and his head back, exposing his neck. 

‘What did I say?’ John demanded. Sherlock made a pitiful sound, but said nothing. ‘What were my instructions, Sherlock?’

‘I’m sorry, John, it was just so good, it won’t happen again.’ 

‘Damn right it won’t. We’re done here.’ He let go of Sherlock’s hair and went to zip himself back up. 

‘Wait, please!’ The hands on his thighs gripped tightly. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I’ll try harder.’ John paused and stared hard at Sherlock. Damn the actor, how lower lip was trembling. 

‘Beg for it.’ 

Sherlock didn’t hesitate. ‘Oh please John please I want to be so good for you, please give me another chance. Your cock tasted so good and I could taste your come and I want more of it, oh God, John, I want your come down my throat and on my face and I’ll take you as deep as you want, you can fuck my throat if you want, you can fuck my mouth as hard and fast as you want, oh please use me John, please. I’ll let you do anything you want to me, just please let me taste you again.’ Sherlock’s voice was genuinely wrecked and his eyes were bright with tears. It was far too hot in the flat. 

John tugged his jumper off and unbuttoned his shirt. ‘Open your shirt. Show me that lovely chest of yours.’ Sherlock unbuttoned his shirt slowly and pulled it from his trousers.

‘Maybe you deserve a reward for trying so hard.’ John’s fingers brushed Sherlock’s face. ‘Would you like that?’

‘Yes, John, anything.’ 

‘I’ll let you choose how you take my come. I can come deep down your throat, or I’ll come on that lovely face of yours. Which do you want?’ 

‘Oh please come on my face, Sir.’ 

John wondered if Sherlock realized he had said the ‘sir’ aloud.

‘Good boy. Now show me what you’ve been practicing.’ 

Sherlock took orders well. He swallowed John down to the hilt. The tight muscles of his throat swallowed around the head of his cock several times, before he pulled up enough to breathe through his nose. He moaned lavishly and lifted a hand off John’s left thigh and brought it to palm at his own erection through his trousers. 

‘Pull it out, boy.’ Sherlock’s eyes practically rolled back in his head as he pulled at his trousers, but whether it was from finally touching himself or the term ‘boy’, John wasn’t sure.   
With his erection free, Sherlock began to stroke himself as he wrapped his mouth around John. 

‘No, no, baby. I want your hands back where they were. You can rub yourself on my leg.’ And he stretched out his left leg to make contact easier. Sherlock pulled off and looked up at him, a look crossing his face that could have been confusion, but was might have also been humiliation. But without arguing, his hands returned to John’s thighs and he awkwardly straddled his leg and tilted his hips down to make contact with his cock. His mouth returning to John, he began to deep throat him slowly as he rolled his hips, trying to find a rhythm. ‘Don’t you get distracted or I won’t let you come at all.’ John threatened. That seemed to put Sherlock back in his headspace. He alternated between short, shallow bobs and deep swallows. John, who was feeling confident in what Sherlock wanted, began to babble as his fingers wound around those curls he had wanted to touch for so long. 

‘That’s right, boy. I’ll lock you up in a chastity device and won’t even let you get hard. I’ll have you suck me every night and I’ll come all over your face and make a filthy mess all over you, but you won’t get to come a drop.’ Sherlock suction was erratic and he was making loud, long moans and thrusting himself unashamedly against John’s jeans, and all of a sudden it was too much. John pulled Sherlock off him by his hair and jerked twice and shot come across Sherlock’s face. Sherlock’s eyes were closed and the first ribbon landed on his eyelashes and cheekbone. Sherlock wailed and thrust wildly against John’s leg, coming as the second streak landed across his lips and chin. John ran the head of his cock along Sherlock’s lower lip, spreading the rest of his come. 

After several beats during which Sherlock and John both gasped for air silently, John reached out and smeared the come off Sherlock’s eyelashes and eyelid and Sherlock’s eyes drifted open to find John’s. As John was formulating he next words when Sherlock jumped to his feet and tucked himself away, disappearing into the bathroom. John took a shaky breath and noted the condition of his jean’s leg. In retrospect, humping such a coarse material had to have chafed. He pulled himself out of his chair and climbed the stairs to change.

When he returned downstairs, Sherlock was fully dressed and leaning over the kitchen table, cataloging data from his latest kitchen ruining experiment. He didn’t look up as John came down the stairs. John leaned up against the refrigerator and watched him, trying to work out the best way to express himself. Sherlock paused, and a pained look flickered across his face before it steeled again. He went back to writing. 

‘That was bloody wonderful.’ John said softly. Sherlock stopped, but didn’t look back. And suddenly John knew what was needed here. How could he have missed it? 

‘You were amazing. Brilliant.’ John said, crossing to Sherlock and wrapping an arm around his waist. ‘You were so gorgeous on your knees, so lovely looking up at me.’ The tension eased out of Sherlock and he turned to look at John. 

‘But you know what I want more than anything right now?’ Sherlock shook his head. ‘I’d very much like to kiss you.’

Sherlock nodded. John leaned up and pressed his slightly parted lips against Sherlock’s. Sherlock pressed back and John wrapped his arms around his waist. John pulled back only enough to speak. 

‘How do you feel about sharing my bed tonight?’ John asked. 

‘It sags in the middle. We’ll roll together.’ 

‘Problem?’ 

‘No.’

John kissed him again.


End file.
